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TWL Chapter 232: Golden Waves and Forgotten Castles
🕑 Added 2024-10-12 16:01:21 +0000 UTCEnns and Mousesack would probably never forget what they were about to witness.
Lann's left hand seemed to have turned into a spring, and a torrent called 'wealth' was continuously gushing out: at first, there were all kinds of golden coins, such as crowns, florens, orens, and lintars, which are now in circulation. Then, ancient gold coins from the period of elf rule began to appear, and then various gold coins that even Mousesack's knowledge could not recognize.
Everything was a dazzling golden glow, without even a hint of silver or copper to interrupt it.
After the golden torrent, the dazzling red, blue and green gemstone lights appeared, mixed with large diamonds, jade and pearls. These glittering little things seemed to have turned into stones that can be seen everywhere on the roadside.
After that, several gold-inlaid boxes rolled out and rolled open in mid-air. From them rolled out pearl necklaces, gold-cast crowns, gem rings and other precious jewelry and decorations; you can also see exquisite antique swords, gold and silver wine glasses and tableware, shiny and smooth porcelain, and framed oil paintings.
At first, both old men were startled, worried that these fragile objects would be damaged. But soon they saw how they landed softly on the coin-strewn ground, slowly sinking as if they were submerged in sand.
The warehouse was now so full of coins that it resembled a golden beach, an image that lifted anyone's spirits.
The air began to fill with an intense fragrance, either of musk or sandalwood, filling the environment with an intoxicating perfume.
Enns swallowed hard and swayed slightly.
Lann, grabbing the old butler, pulled him back to prevent the treasures from burying him. The three of them retreated to the door, where the coins barely reached their feet.
Lann, a little worried, looked at the old butler, ready to act, but saw Mousesack, breathing heavily, place a hand on Enns' shoulder.
Even though the old druid was well-informed, he was also shocked at this moment. But then a magical wave like a breeze in the forest rose from his body, enveloping him and Enns, and even Lann felt a refreshing comfort and relaxation for a while.
After more than a dozen breaths, Enns finally swallowed a mouthful of saliva, moistened his dry throat, and was able to speak again.
"Master... these are all yours? Where did you get them from?"
Lann smiled shyly. "Actually, these are not all. I kept some as pocket money. But it should be enough for the things we just planned, right?"
"More than enough..." Enns muttered to himself.
The fluctuation of natural magic rose again from Mousesack's body, and it was obvious that he was not calm enough.
The green light rose and fell repeatedly, and Mousesack and Enns became more and more calm, until they were expressionless.
Finally, the old druid said without any emotion: "I will contact the mercenary group in Kovir. I know a lot of people there. Keldar can also help. I will persuade him to join me."
Enns, also with a cold expression, added: "This money is enough to hire an army of ten thousand men… though, on second thought, we shouldn't hire that many. They're easy to recruit, but hard to get rid of. Five thousand is a more manageable amount. The rest will be used to improve our own troops' equipment, build siege machinery, and rebuild Cintra after the war. We'll be able to import enough grain from Aedirn to cover our needs, and those five thousand men can focus entirely on military training."
Lann, uncomfortable with the lack of emotion from both of them, nodded quickly, following their ideas. "Ah… yes, exactly! That's what we'll do."
"Then Lann..." Mousesack turned his head and said seriously: "Your task is to travel to Skellige and ask for reinforcements, then go to Mahakam to talk to the dwarves. We have to act fast, before Nilfgaard reacts to what we're planning. A month should be enough time for the ships from Skellige to get here. If the dwarves can really provide heavy infantry, I can convince Triss, Jerome, and some other druids to open portals and transport them in groups."
“Yeah, sure!” Lann replied enthusiastically.
Enns also turned to him. "Master, before you leave, you must visit Her Royal Highness the princess. She misses you very much. We have also already informed Marshal Vissegerd of your return. You must receive his troops, and the princess must accept their loyalty."
"Ah… yes! I've missed Ciri too." Lann swallowed nervously. "Is there anything else I need to do?"
Mousesack and Enns looked at each other, emotionless again, as a soft magical energy enveloped them once again.
"Lann, please put away these treasures first. The door is blocked."
"Yes, Master. We also need a safer place to store our riches. The granary is not the most suitable."
Lann nodded obediently. "...Okay."
...
As one of the four great kingdoms in the north, the Kingdom of Kaedwen is famous for its vast land and sparse population. Even its king Henselt may not have measured the territory of Kaedwen, which is why there are so many mysteries on this land.
In the northernmost part of Kaedwen, one of the few forgotten corners in the world, part of the endless Blue Mountains, lies the headquarters of the Wolf School of witchers, Kaer Morhen.
Today, this forgotten corner once again welcomed visitors.
A portal of red fire opened in the air and Lann led the way on Black Wind. Without the curious Cintra crowd watching them, he and his horse no longer had to keep their composure. Both were pale, staggering, as if they might faint at any moment.
Following Lann, the four members of the Viper School emerged from the portal, and they weren't in any better shape either.
The last person to walk out of the portal was Mousesack. With an amused smile, he looked at the dizzy witchers in front of him, as his oak staff clanged against the ground, causing the portal to disappear without a trace.
Kaer Morhen was a place that had to be kept secret, it did not accept unexpected visitors. That is why Lann only brought a small group. It was more of a visit between friends.
Kolgrim sat down against a rock to ease the dizziness that was pounding in his head. He accidentally broke off a piece of the rock. He looked at the stone in his hand and, dazed, noticed strange markings on its surface. The lines formed figures of shells and fossilized fish.
"It must be the dizziness... How is it possible that there are fossils of shells and fish in the mountains?"
Mousesack looked at Kolgrim with a smile and said: "No, this is a marine fossil. This mountain range was once a vast ocean, and it has become what it is today after the evolution of the earth's crust. Kaer Morhen means Keep of the Elder Sea in Elder Speech."
The old druid took two steps forward and pointed at the castle in the mountains. "I have been here many times. I could have teleported you directly to the castle hall. But considering that this is your first time here, I think it is better to let you see the whole picture of this fortress."
Following the direction Mousesack had pointed, the witchers (and the witcher horse) took in the scenery: a meandering river in the mountains, a spiral path leading to the remains of a collapsed defensive wall, a tower, and the heavy cylindrical structure of the main keep.
The castle seemed to blend into the snowy mountains, but at the same time, it exuded a sense of history that weighed heavily on their hearts. The walls still bore the scars of ancient battles, as if the echoes of the fighting still resonated in the air.
...
The Wolf School is the most peculiar school among all the witchers schools.
Each school of witchers specializes in specific techniques, adapted to their life and combat needs.
The School of the Wolf, on the other hand, encompasses a bit of everything. A mature witcher of this school can defeat a legendary swordsman in direct combat, masterfully brew potions and oils before a hunt, and then skillfully use signs and alchemy bombs to dispatch their enemies quickly.
This balanced approach is what, in theory, would make the members of the Wolf School ideal protagonists in any story.
The reason why the School of the Wolf encompasses so many disciplines has a lot to do with its history. This school is considered the legitimate heir of the Order of Witchers.
After the wizard Alzur, founder of the Order of Witchers, left the order, disputes arose between the witchers due to ideological differences. This led to many of them leaving and founding their own schools around the world.
The witchers who remained took with them all the laboratory equipment, mutation materials and experiment notebooks. With the help of alchemists and sorcerers, they settled in the Blue Mountains, where they built the fortress of Kaer Morhen.
They are the most standard witchers, not as extreme as the Cat School, nor as selfless as the Griffin School. They adhere to neutrality and moderation, never getting involved in politics, nor did they seek expansion or fame. At its peak, the school never had more than fifteen active witchers, and, adding the apprentices in training, never more than thirty.
For Lann, however, all of them suffered from some kind of personality disorder, perhaps even self-destructive tendencies.
Despite possessing abundant resources, numerous sorcerers, and a genuine legacy, the Wolves never attempted to expand. When rumors and slander began to attack the witchers, they did nothing to stop them, believing that time and their actions would prove their innocence.
In the end, just like the Griffin School, the Wolf School was coveted by mages and feared by rulers. The mastermind behind the scenes incited the mob to attack Kaer Morhen and killed almost all the witchers, mages and alchemists in the castle. Only the last Grand Master Vesemir escaped.
When Vesemir raised a new generation of Wolves, these witchers were no longer comfortable with their identity. They hated the mutations that had taken away their friends and avoided talking about the suffering they had endured. They refused to train a new generation of witchers, even if some 'surprise children' emerged, they did not bring them in to be trained.
Eventually, even Vesemir relented and destroyed most of the alchemy equipment needed for the mutations, keeping only a small portion, saved as a memento.
Despite everything, Lann knew that deep down Vesemir still harbored hope of reviving the school. His attitude was more of a surrender to the times and the painful memories of the past.
Lann, for his part, wanted to rekindle the spark that still burned in Vesemir's heart.
Letho, looking at the crumbling walls and the ruined castle, reflected: "It seems that all the witchers' strongholds are doomed to be destroyed."
Letho then looked at Lann, gazing at the imposing fortress. His eyes reflected a mixture of emotions.
"The future of witchers... is here?"
Comments
Axell
Thanks for the chapter! 😁
